


Viola Concerto

by lonelyhourglass47



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Coming Out, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyhourglass47/pseuds/lonelyhourglass47
Summary: Eddy doesn't understand why Brett never goes on dates. On the rare occasion that he does, it's only ever the one. No second date, no gossip with Eddy about how the first date went. Because of this, Eddy has no idea why Brett never holds a girlfriend.It's tearing him to pieces, because it gives him hope.-Does anyone remember Twoset's video called "It's Okay To Play The Viola" and how Brett "came out" as a violist? This fic does not include any actual viola, but...If you don't know where this is going, then I'm afraid you might need to PRACTICE!
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	1. I. Allegro misterioso

**Author's Note:**

> Fellow Twosetters and Ling Ling wannabes, I'm back again already! I hope this one finds you well :)
> 
> Let's be honest, the Breddy fics practically write themselves at this point. BAE are asking for it, come on.  
> No but remember folks, it's okay to play the viola. As long as it's just a metaphor for being gay.

Eddy doesn’t understand why Brett never goes on dates. On the rare occasion that he does, it’s only ever the one. No second date, no gossip with Eddy about how the first date went. Because of this, Eddy has no idea why Brett never holds a girlfriend.

It’s tearing him to pieces, because it gives him hope.

Eddy tries his best to help Brett out. He thinks he’s doing something nice when he directs a cute girl’s attention to Brett when they’re trying to make conversation with people in public, or when he tries to slip the girl at the bubble tea shop Brett’s phone number surreptitiously. So when Brett catches him in the act, slaps his hand over Eddy’s to stop him, and mumbles an apology to the girl along with some lame excuse as to why he’s not looking for a relationship, like that he’s too busy with YouTube, or that he’s too invested in practicing every day to have time to go on dates, it confuses Eddy beyond belief. What’s worse are the times when Eddy  _ totally  _ gets a girl interested, and when she comes over to talk to Brett he acts completely oblivious as to what’s going on! “Yeah, I play Tchaikovsky too, we’d make good friends,” he says to her. “Oh definitely, coffee’s pretty addicting,” he responds another time, “I have a friend who would get along with you well, if you know what I mean.”

Why does he keep deflecting chances at romance?

At uni, Brett and Eddy used to talk to each other about girls they were interested in all the time. It was their main conversation topic aside from music. Brett was always the one who went out with girls, and had sex with girls, and got major crushes on girls from time to time, so there’s no reason for him to be reclusive now. It doesn’t make sense.

Eddy starts to get offended by it, thinks, maybe Brett believes he has a superior taste in women or something. When they watch movies together, Brett never comments on how pretty the actresses are like Eddy does. “Bro, look at her,” he’ll say, pointing towards the screen when the main character appears. “Isn’t she, like, gorgeous?” Hardly able to tear his eyes away. When he does, however, because he received no response from Brett, he looks over only to watch Brett shrug. It happens dozens of times. Once, Eddy even catches Brett looking at his phone in the middle of a kissing scene. It can’t be because he’s uncomfortable by the kissing, because he’s never had a problem with it before. “Why aren’t you watching the movie?” Eddy asks him, thinking that he might have gotten an important text or something. Brett glances up, makes eye contact, and then immediately looks back down at his phone while muttering, “The movie’s boring.” Eddy looks back and forth between the TV screen and Brett a few times, his mouth agape. The scene is of  _ two women making out! _

The signs are staring him in the face, but Eddy won’t jump to conclusions. He  _ knows  _ Brett is into girls. Maybe he’s demisexual or something? Eddy’s too afraid to ask.

He decides to settle for believing that Brett  _ might  _ be demisexual after the time they’re at a restaurant and Brett points out to Eddy how unprofessional it is for their waitress to wear a shirt that shows so much cleavage, and, to quote, it’s “a little slutty, don’t you think?”

Eddy is taken aback, staring at Brett like he’s gone insane. “Ouch,” he replies. “Maybe you’re just jealous of the other men she might be getting because of it.”

Brett snorts in response, resting his chin in his hand. “Nah, definitely not.” Judging by the look in his eye when he says it, Eddy knows he’s being honest.

“Dude,” Eddy continues, bothered by Brett’s use of the word  _ slutty,  _ “she’s allowed to wear what she wants, you know. You shouldn’t be upset about that. It’s her choice.”

Brett slumps into his seat, his face heating up. “I probably sound like an ass,” he mumbles to himself. “I know it’s her choice, I’m only complaining because it makes me uncomfortable when she comes over here and I have to see...that.”

When their waitress returns to take their order, Eddy spouts off what he wants and then seems to get distracted, his eyes drifting down to the opening in her shirt where her breasts peek out. He jumps when Brett kicks him in the shin, and he looks over just in time to see Brett mouth the words, “ _ Stop looking! _ ” As soon as she walks away with their order, Brett glares at Eddy’s reddened face and says, “God, you  _ asshole. _ ”

Is it just about being polite? Does Brett have a pet peeve about not acting mature in public? That still isn’t enough to justify his actions. Wondering about it all keeps Eddy awake at night, which can only mean one thing for him.

He has to know.

Brett can’t keep his odd behavior under wraps forever, especially when Eddy’s his best friend, obviously knows something’s up, and hates secrets.

He waits until they’re both at the kitchen table on their laptops, catching up on work-related stuff late into the night. Eddy’s sitting at the head of the table while Brett sits beside him on the adjacent side, and when Brett leans back and stretches, yawning something about taking a quick break, Eddy figures this is the perfect time for a small bonding session.

He traps Brett in conversation, and they talk about everything and nothing until he changes the topic to something more serious, and they spiral down the funnel into more personal discussions until Brett attempts to cut him off and get back to reading emails.

Eddy panics, reaches for Brett, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from opening his laptop again. “Bro, it’s been forty-five minutes. I have to get back to this,” says Brett, but Eddy tightens his grip on Brett’s wrist.

“Hold on a minute,” he says quickly and then releases Brett all at once, trusting that the latter will listen to him and wait. Eddy takes a deep breath. “Look at me,” he asks softly, and Brett does. Their eyes meet.

“Hey,” Brett says, which ultimately doesn’t make the most sense.

Eddy accepts it anyway. “Hey,” he responds at an equal level, and then, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Silence between them. “Brett?”

Brett nods his head frantically, the mention of his name snapping him out of his inner turmoil. “Yeah,” he whispers, and then clears his throat to find his voice more.

“Anything at all,” Eddy repeats, dragging out the vowels. He thinks that with this, Brett will finally tell him why he’s been avoiding girls, which, technically, he does.

Brett tells him that he’s gay.


	2. II. Andante lacrimoso

“I’m--I--” He has trouble saying much of anything at first, and Eddy waits patiently for him to get his thoughts together. Brett tries a second time. “I’m a--It’s just that--” He sighs, stops again, lets his back fall against the chair he’s sitting in. 

“It’s alright,” Eddy says without meaning to, without thinking about it. “Take your time.”

Brett exhales through his nostrils and chances the shortest possible glance at Eddy, offering him an apologetic smile. He swallows and looks down at the table, kind of wishing he could slam his head into it so he could avoid this confession. It’s then that his legs start bouncing, and his next inhale is shaky, and Eddy’s face falls too, when Brett’s fingers start to nervously flutter like he’s doing trills with both hands.

“It’s okay,” he blurts, almost reaching towards Brett before realizing it might not be the best idea. He probably needs space between them. “You don’t have to tell me whatever it is. It’s okay.”

But Brett shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut. “No, I want to,” he chokes out. “Give me a second.” He tries to will his legs to stop bouncing and his hands to stop shaking, taking deep, even breaths to calm his nerves. It’s nearly a full minute later that he tilts his head back up to look at Eddy, and then after immediately realizing he’s not confident enough to do that he turns his head back to look straight in front of him at the wall. His heart is pounding.

He sits there like that for so long, Eddy starts to wonder if he really is going to speak. And then he does, two heavy words that come out of his mouth with a forte-piano dynamic filling the room and especially Eddy’s horrified ears.

“I’m gay.”

He isn’t horrified because he’s homophobic, no, quite the opposite. His vision blurs for a few moments, like he’s being transported to another dimension, and the response that leaves his lips isn’t one he’s particularly proud of, but for those few brief seconds he was running on autopilot. “That doesn’t change anything,” he says, and it’s probably true.

His vision returns and his brain reboots in a millisecond when he hears the heartbroken sob that rips from Brett’s throat. He directs his gaze to Brett’s face, and there are already tear tracks on his cheeks. He’s clutching himself like he’s dying, and his eyes are mostly shut while he cries. It’s loud and messy, Eddy thinks, and the sniffles he hears every now and then are like daggers to his heart. Eddy has no idea why his support would make Brett cry.

He gets up and calmly stands behind Brett, wrapping his arms around Brett’s shoulders and linking his hands together in front of Brett’s chest to hold them there. His eyebrows shoot up when Brett only cries harder, and Eddy would be lying if he said he didn’t freak out a little bit at the reaction. “What’s wrong?” he asks frantically, leaning forward and to the side to get a look at Brett’s face. “Brett, come on, what’s wrong?” Brett’s eyes are squeezed completely shut now, and Eddy holds him tighter until those eyes open as another sob escapes. Through the liquid spilling over Brett’s eyelids Eddy can see the intense longing in his dark irises.  _ Longing.  _

“There’s--” Brett gasps for air, trying to push out another sentence like it’s the last thing he’ll ever have time to say. “There’s someone,” he confesses, sounding strangled. “A guy. I like him so--so fucking much.” Eddy feels his heart shatter and soar at the same time, for one reason in particular. “I just--I don’t think I have a chance with him.” He sobs again, and Eddy lightly rests his chin on top of Brett’s head, moving his hands up to knead the skin on Brett’s shoulders through his shirt. 

“Shh, try to relax Bretty,” Eddy tells him in his nighttime voice. It’s dark enough in the room for Eddy to barely be able to make out Brett’s features now that the moon, their only light source, has disappeared behind the clouds. “Deep breaths, like this.” He breathes in and out at a slow, deliberate pace, hoping Brett will follow, which he soon manages to do. Over the minutes, his crying slows but doesn’t stop.

Eddy wants to wipe the tears away with his thumbs.

“It hurts,” Brett whimpers, still clutching at his sides. “It physically hurts.”

Eddy moves around to be mostly in front of Brett and pulls him into a hug despite the awkward angle. Brett’s face is shoved into Eddy’s shirt, and his glasses tickle Eddy’s stomach. Brett lets his arms go, and they fly up to wrap around Eddy’s hips and tightly grasp the back of his shirt with two small fists. It’s nice, but after a while Eddy taps Brett on the shoulder and he pulls away. Eddy takes one of his hands, helping him to stand, and without letting go he walks them over to Brett’s bedroom, pushing the door open and leading Brett to the bed. He pulls the covers back for him like any good friend would and watches Brett climb onto the sheets.

Eddy will always remember the surprised, doe-eyed look Brett wore when Eddy laid down beside him and pulled the covers over them both.

Brett’s heart is pounding again, because Eddy’s so very close. Brett wonders if his bed will smell like Eddy tomorrow morning.

“I won’t go anywhere,” says Eddy, rolling onto his side and tossing an arm over Brett’s slightly quivering form, hugging him close. “In case you need me.”

It’s the fastest Brett has fallen asleep in months.


	3. III. Allegro con amore

Eddy wakes up first the following morning, deciding to stay in bed and more importantly, not to move when he notices that Brett is laying half on top of him, his cold hand on Eddy’s chest and his face pressed into Eddy’s arm. He’s drooling onto the sleeve of Eddy’s shirt a little bit, but Eddy decides to let it happen because Brett looks utterly adorable when he’s asleep. 

Trying to shift into a slightly more comfortable position though proves to be a challenge. He only gets so far as stretching his legs before Brett stirs, and he freezes up immediately, hoping that Brett will continue to sleep. He does.

Eddy stares up at the ceiling and flips through the events of the previous night in his mind. He honestly never would have guessed that the words leaving Brett’s mouth would have been  _ I’m gay,  _ because people like Eddy don’t get that lucky.

Still, he’s only lucky if the man Brett is after is the one he’s curled up against now as the sun rises.

People like Eddy don’t get  _ that _ lucky.

He shoves the thoughts down for another time, because this is about Brett now. Not him.

After a difficult hour of remaining completely still in bed, Eddy hears Brett’s breaths become uneven and shallow, and his eyes flutter open a minute or two later. He slowly rises, propping himself up on one elbow and using his free hand to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth. “Sorry,” he rasps, looking down at the wet spot on Eddy’s sleeve.

Eddy laughs, glad to see him looking better in the morning. “It’s alright.” There’s a certain fondness in his tone. He stretches and glances to the side, looking out at the blue sky through the gap in the curtains. “How did you sleep?” he asks with a yawn, but when he looks back up at Brett, Brett is silent.

His eyes are watering again.

Eddy doesn’t even have time to ask him why he’s tearing up before Brett opens his mouth, two tears fall simultaneously, and he declares:

“It’s you.”

Eddy bites his bottom lip. Had he heard him correctly?

“It’s you,” says Brett a second time. “It’s you.”

_ There’s--a guy. I like him so--so fucking much. _

Eddy blinks. Brett stares, tears continuing to fall. “It’s you.”

Without a word, Eddy wraps his arms around him and pulls him back down, Brett falling against him with a quiet gasp. One hand presses to Brett’s back and holds him flush against Eddy while the other hand cradles the back of Brett’s head where it rests in the crook of Eddy’s shoulder and neck. Eddy feels that his heart is mended, because he can confirm his suspicions and stop berating himself for thinking that this could be real. “I know,” he breathes, finally at ease. “I know, Brett.”

Brett pulls himself away enough to witness Eddy’s pleased expression. “Wait, you do?” he questions, shock evident in his own expression, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes shine with hope, but he continues to cry.

Eddy smiles at him so brightly, crying out, “How could I not? You can be a bit obvious, you know.” (True, it didn’t take perfect vision to notice how Brett couldn’t keep his eyes off of Eddy when the latter would try to talk to girls for him. He ignored it like any sane person would, because it seemed impossible at the time for Brett to have more interest in  _ him  _ than a beautiful woman.)

Brett lets a single, emotional sob escape before Eddy implores, “Please stop crying, Bretty. It’s you for me too.”

Brett’s eyes grow impossibly wide, and then he breaks into a smile too, because he knows and trusts that Eddy means it. Eddy places both of his hands on Brett’s face and pulls him down further until their lips meet, and their smiles carry throughout the kiss. Brett’s hands reach up to pull Eddy’s hair gently, yet with enough force to let him know that Brett’s  _ there,  _ those are  _ his  _ lips on Eddy’s, and from here on out they’ll be able to connect like this whenever and however they want to. Brett pulls away only for air, and he and Eddy are both breathing loudly, but it’s no bother because the sound makes them increasingly aware of the other’s presence. Brett’s gazing at him lovingly, his face still wet from the crying, which--yes, he’s finally stopped.

Eddy wipes the tears away this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. You guys are lovely people :)  
> As always, feel free to comment.  
> Do any of you "play the viola" as well?


End file.
